r day they tried hard to find new and puzzling
questions for her; to make her false on her own showing; to make her
deny her visions or deny her God. They could not. Clearheaded,
simple-hearted, she had been always, and she was so still. She showed
the faith of a Christian, the patience of a saint, in all her answers.
Piety and wisdom were with her, wickedness and folly with her enemies.
They tried to make evil out of two things in particular: her banner,
with which it was declared she worked charms, and the tree she used to
dance around when she was a child, where they said she went to consult
the fairies. Concerning her banner, Joan said that she carried it on
purpose to spare the sword, so she might not kill any one with her own
hand; of the tree, she denied that she knew any thing about fairies, or
was acquainted with any one who had seen them there. She was tormented
with questions as to whether the saints spoke English when she saw them,
what they wore, how they smelt, whether she helped the banner or the
banner her, whether she was in mortal sin when she rode the horse
belonging to the bishop of Senlis, whether she could commit mortal sin,
whether the saints hated the English. Every trap they could lay for her
they laid. She answered all clearly; when she had forgotten any thing
she said so; her patience never gave way; she was never confused. When
asked whether she was in a state of grace, she said: "If I am not, I
pray to God to bring me to it; and, if I am, may he keep me in it."

After all, they did not dare condemn her. Try as they could, they could
draw nothing from her that was wrong. They teased her to give the matter
into the hands of the Church. She put the Church in heaven, and its
head, above the Church on earth and the pope. The English were afraid
that after all she might escape, and pressed on the judgment. The
lawyers at Rouen would say nothing, neither would the chapter. The only
way to take was to send the report of the trial to the University of
Paris, and wait the answer.

On the 19th of May arrived the answer from Paris. It was this: that the
Maid of Orleans was either a liar or in alliance with Satan and with
Behemoth; that she was given to superstition, most likely an idolater;
that she lowered the angels, and vainly boasted and exalted herself;
that she was a blasphemer and a traitor thirsting for blood, a heretic
and an apostate. Yet they would not burn her at once; they would first
disg